Stories From the TARDIS
by Team-Jazz
Summary: A collection of drabbles and short one-shots involving The Doctor and his sister. Fluffy, funny, dramatic, emotional, all will be covered. Contains my OC, Aobh from "Into The Mist". Covers multiple eras and Doctors. NEW CHAPTER: Explosions. 11 and Aobh deal with a 35th century explosive...in one way or another.
1. Chapter 1

**My obsession is at maximum levels. I hope you like this. **

**I have a lot of little ideas that wont fit into stories, so I'm going to post them here. Some are longer than others, but hopefully you'll find them entertaining. And not mary-sue-ish :s**

**Aobh belongs to me (Pronounced Eve)**

**Doctor Who belongs to the BBC**

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><p><em><strong>1. Bunk Beds And Tea <strong>_

"But why? I don't understand why they don't like bunk beds! Bunk beds are cool! Do you not remember the time we slept in bunk beds on that moon resort? We had a hoot! And absolute blast!" The Doctor was getting rather worked up. The smile I was trying to suppress broke through, and I ended up grinning.

"That was a bit different Doctor,"

"In what way?" His arms flailed, one of them smacking off the work surface beside him. He grimaced and clutched it to his chest.

"We're siblings. They're a married couple. An adult married couple. They'll be wanting a double bed. They _are_ adults. " I added for good measure, but his face was still confused.

"Adults can still have fun,"

His brow was furrowed, and the look of confusion on his face made it difficult not to laugh out loud. For someone so old, he could be so innocent at times. Child like even. Maybe he'd been living on his own for too long. Maybe this regeneration was particularly slow when it comes the ways of adult humans. He seemed more in tune with the minds of children. I gave an exasperated sigh. His expression didn't change.

"Surely I am not going to have to explain this to my 909 year old brother?" I said in a strangled voice. His only reply was to open his mouth slightly, looking gormless.

"Well..." I began, blushing ever so slightly. "When a man and a lady love each other veeery much-"

"OH! OH NO STOP I DON'T WANT TO HEAR ANY MORE!" The look of comprehension dawn so suddenly on his face it was comic like. He floundered about, running his hand through his hair, other arm flailing once again.

I couldn't breathe. I was laughing far too hard.

"Ooh...er...blimey...er," He started chuckling too at the sight of me clutching the work surface for support. Within a few seconds we were both roaring with laughter.

A shrill whistle screeched through the laughter, and sides aching, tears running down my cheeks, I managed to pull myself together and scooped the shiny brass kettle from the stove. I handed the Doctor his mug of steaming tea, which he clinked in a toast against my own, leaning against the counter.

"To bunk beds!"

"To bunk beds,"

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><p><strong>This is really stupid I know. But I always have these stupid wee ideas, so expect more, and comment if you like them :)<strong>


	2. Chapter 2

**Finale tomorrow *Cries***

**I have a lot of little ideas that wont fit into stories, so I'm going to post them here. Some are longer than others, but hopefully you'll find them entertaining. And not mary-sue-ish :s**

**THIS IS IN NO WAY 11 BASHING. I LOVE ELEVEN. VERY VERY VERY VERY MUCH. HE IS A CLOSE SECOND FAVOURITE TO 10! But understandably, Aobh just finds the transition a bit hard to handle. Don't worry, she soon regenerates and they're great chums again :P**

**Aobh belongs to me (Pronounced Eve)**

**Doctor Who belongs to the BBC**

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><p><em><strong>2. Arguments and Nosebleeds<strong>_

The air was tense. You could have cut it with a knife. Amy looked between the two of us, before making an excuse and scurrying off. She was used to this now. The arguments. They were increasing with time, and it seemed like a day didn't go past that we weren't niggling at each other at some point.

I suppose it was my fault, once again, although don't tell the Doctor that I've admitted that. Because by Rassilon, he blamed me, or at least he seemed to. But I just couldn't stop seeing him as...less than the Doctor. I don't know why, because, if I'm being honest, he was still the same brilliant man, the same _fantastic_, brilliant man, but at the time, I was reluctant to see it. I was still mourning the loss of his last incarnation, who as far as I was concerned, had been my Doctor through and through. After he'd regenerated, we just didn't seem to gel the same. Different personalities I suppose. Oh, and I was being a stubborn idiot. But back to the current situation.

I held my sonic screwdriver between my teeth as I pulled the wires out from under the console. They were stuck, tangled in a big ball of wires and fluff, unmoving. Gritting my teeth harder still, I pulled with all my weight, feet pushing against the edge of the console above me. And then it suddenly gave way, and I landed in a heap of wires, and dust and fluff, grunting and muttering the odd Gallifreyan curse. The sound of boots approached, and the wires were pulled out of my hands.

"I'd appreciate it if you didn't take out your anger on the TARDIS, you're supposed to be repairing her, not making her worse," the Doctor snapped, and I glared up at him.

"It's not my fault she's in this state, I told you not to take her through the Klantoriish Pass-,"

"And I told you we'd make it through, now if you're going to sit there and complain, then I'll do it myself," He snatched my sonic screwdriver out of my hands, and started pressing the button. I snatched it back.

"And if you're going to take over you can use your own sonic!"

"Oh stop acting like a child!" His voice was raised once more.

Still glaring, I picked myself up, ready to march off, but my foot snagged on one of the wires, and I was sent tumbling forward, slamming my face off one of the railings. There was a sickening crunch, and a shooting pain in my nose as I cried out. My eyes watered, and I slid to my knees, clutching at it. The Doctor gave a small chuckle and then stopped. He'd seen the blood. Cables forgotten, he shuffled across the floor, using his feet to propel himself.

"Let me see,"

"I'b fide,"

"Aobh, let me see," He tried to move my hand away

"I DAID I'B FIDE!" I shouted. He stopped. It would have been comical if I wasn't in such a bad mood.

He began again, his voice low and dangerous, trying to keep control of his temper. It was the sort of voice that would have put a chill down most peoples spines. He had a way about him, this regeneration. He could captivate a room with just a quiet, controlled instruction. And it was enough to make me listen.

"And I said, let me see. Your nose is broken, and I'm going to fix it while I can,"

My hand began to lower slowly, covered in blood, white and shaking. The pain was pretty bad, although I'd been through much worse in my time. But that didn't stop it hurting. The Doctor picked up the sonic screwdriver, discarded on the floor, and aimed it at my nose, pressing the buttons. It began to whine, and he gently pressed his thumb and fingers on either side of my nose. It didn't even hurt too much. And then he cracked it into place, and it erupted in a fiery pain.

"GYNAHHH" I grunted loudly, flinching back but finding the railing behind me. My eyes were watering again, and my teeth were gritted together jaw locked. The pain subsided. I felt my nose. It was shaped normally.

"Thanks...I guess,"I looked down, feeling a bit guilty. The Doctor didn't reply, but pinched my nose again.

"You're still bleeding. Head down and pinch your nose for ten minutes,"

"I know how to stop a nose bleed," The retort came back far too easily. The guilt doubled.

The Doctor didn't reply for a few seconds. He looked like he was considering an answer, whether to snap back or let it go. He finally sighed, brushing his now bloody hand though his hair.

"Well lets hope you're better at it than mending the TARDIS," And I was relieved to see a small smile playing on his lips.

He returned to work, and I watched quietly, the anger having subsided all together now. It was moments like these that I saw that he was still the same man. Moments like these I felt extremely guilty. Moments like these the grief didn't seem so great. For now, I would just sit and watch him work, like the many times I had before, content in each other's company. And then later I would apologise in the form of a great big bowl of fish fingers and custard. He was a new man, but I was quickly getting to know my Doctor once more.

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><p><strong>Hope you liked it ^^ More to come soon :D<strong>


	3. Chapter 3

**An update. YAY! 10th Doctor and 2nd Aobh this time! Just a stupid idea following the repercussions of Aobh's clumsiness in this regeneration :P**

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><p><strong><span>Chapter 3 - <span>****Well...oops**.

"No no no no no no no no-" The same word tumbled out of my mouth at a rate of noughts, more like a rhythm than actual speech. Oh god when he found out I was dead meat. Deader than dead. Like, so dead I couldn't regenerate. Unless I could fix it before he came back.

The odd little glass object I had been entrusted with lay in many pieces on the floor around me. A thin, blueish vapour was rising from where it had smashed, carrying with it a metallic tang. I thought nothing off it, sinking quickly to the ground and pulling out the old, battered sonic screwdriver that I carried with me. Little wires were sticking out along the body, and it crackled slightly as I hit the settings button. I'd never been particularly good at this jiggery pokery business, it was hard enough fixing my own gear.

Hitting the on button, I waited with bated breath for the sound of buzzing. But nothing happened. With a frustrated sigh, I gave it a violent shake before trying again. It gave a feeble buzz and then no more.

"No! Come on, I charged you yesterday! Stupid useless piece of cra-,"

The door flew open and I jumped to my feet, hurriedly scraping the pieces of glass under the table before leaning against it in what I hoped was a relaxed fashion. The Doctor looked grim. This was not a good sign.

"Where's the orb?" He asked looking around.

"Uhhh...what orb?"

He stared disbelievingly at me for a second, open mouthed.

"The one I gave you to look after. You know, small, made of glass, filled with blue smoke that is potentially deadly," He ruffled his hair before sticking his hands deep into the pockets of his pin-stripe suit trousers, rocking on the balls of his feet. "You know, that orb?"

"Potentially deadly?"

"Yup,"

"Filled with blue smoke?"

"Yup,"

"...doesn't ring a bell, sorry," My voice came out slightly squeaky. Damn.

His face went suddenly dead pan as realisation hit.

"You broke it didn't you,"

"...maybe,"

"Aobh!" He moaned, taking his hands from his pockets and bouncing over, "What part of 'look after this while I find out what it does' do you not understand?"

I shrugged. Then my eyes rolled back in my head. Blinking rapidly to clear the sudden blurred vision, I was suddenly blinded by the glowing blue light of the Doctor's sonic.

"Oi, watch where you're pointing that thing!"

He avoided my attempts to swat him away and instead used one hand to peel my bottom eye lid down on my right eye. Once again they rolled back in my head,"

"Oh this is just astounding! Extremely worrying but astounding all the same!"

"I know I know, the humanoid eye is a wonderful thing," I replied sarcastically stepping back to hop up on the table. "But are you going to tell me what's up with mine?"

"That mist that came out of the orb isn't mist at all. It was a cloud of tiny little robots. They can feed on flesh, transforming it into biotech. These...uhh nanobots are turning your eyes into living spycams,"

"...what,"

"I said, they're turning your ey-,"

"I heard what you said! More importantly, what are we going to do! I don't want to be a walking talking CCTV camera!" I hissed, hands flailing.

He stopped for two seconds before beginning to pace the room. Ruffling his hair as he always did when he was thinking. I tried to stop the panic rising. I tried to stop my eyes rolling back in my head.

"The documents left by the scientists who created these things mentioned a virus. One that will kill the nanobots and any tech left behind,"

"But you said they're transforming the existing cells, not adding to them. So the longer we wait, the more cells will have been transformed, and the greater the risk will be of-"

"You going blind, yes,"

I gulped. Silence filled the room for a second. And then the Doctor was off again, dragging me by the hand out of the room and down the corridor to the many labs.

"But look on the bright side! This technology is fascinating!"

"Oh yes Doctor. I totally _**see**_ where you're coming from,"

His face broke into a wide grin.

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><p><strong>HAW HAW PUN HAW. <strong>

**Enjoy! **


	4. Temper

**An update! Yay! 11 has been so angry lately! Inspiration!**

**11th Doctor and 3rd Aobh**

**Doctor Who belongs to the BBC**

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><p>I have seen the Doctor angry many times. I have seen him rage at the daleks. I have seen him hiss and snap at humans, growl at androids and cybermen. Thousands of races have felt his wrath. And on rare occasions, so have I. It's not a pleasant position to be in.<p>

He paced backwards and forwards, shoulders stooped, bottom jaw jutting out with his teeth gritted. I watched him, straight backed, jaw equally set and determined. I wouldn't back down. That didn't mean I wasn't quaking in my boots though. He finally stopped in front of me, voice dangerously low. It always started out quietly.

"Do you realise what you've done?" He hissed, glaring out from under his hair.

"Yes," I replied stiffly, stubbornly. My voice did not shake. I had that much control at least.

"Do you realise the number of lives you have put in danger," his voice raised slightly, bordering on shouting.

"Yes,"

"The number of people who are possibly dead? Because of your- your stupidity?" He was bellowing now, little flecks of spit flying from his mouth. He stooped until his face was close to mine. His eyes were full of fury, but mostly they were full of disappointment. I could not meet those eyes.

"I am well aware of that fact Doctor," I replied, careful to keep all emotion from my voice. Better to have no emotion than too much. Well. Or so I thought.

There was a pause for a second in which I could hear two sets of twin hearts pounding. Two sets of lungs huffing out breath. Screams in the distance. And when he spoke again his voice was once again dangerously low, and full of disappointment.

"Sometimes, I don't understand this newest regeneration,"

"What's that supposed to mean?"

"I mean," he paused, steadying his rising voice. "I mean that I don't understand where your remorse, where your reasoning and judgement have gone. You just wade in, you don't think, you act and don't consider the consequences. I don't understand why you stopped caring,"

I could have slapped him. I could have burst out crying right there on the spot. I could have thrown myself at him, although whether it would have been to tackle him to the floor in rage or cling to him and beg for forgiveness, I couldn't say. Instead, I put all of my focus into keeping my bottom lip from wobbling. My fists clenched together as I bristled, taking a deep steadying breath before continuing.

"How dare you," I hissed under my breath. "How dare you accuse me of not caring! Just because I don't fly off the handle like last time, just because I can put my emotions to the side-"

"But. You. DON'T" I bellowed back. "You let arrogance cloud your judgement! Combine that with your short fused temper and it's like a timebomb!"

"I'm sorry I don't live up to your expectations!"

"I expect you to use your brain like you were taught!"

"Well it looks like you'll be sorely disappointed thanks to my, how did you put it? Oh yes, my stupidity!"

He gave a low growl, spinning round and marching over to the console of computers behind us. With a great frustrated snarl, he swept the components he'd been using previously to the floor with a loud metallic clang. I took this as my cue to leave while he simmered.

As silently as I could, I quickly padded over to the door. It gave a dull, pneumatic hiss as it slid open, and I grimaced, hoping he hadn't heard, and hurried out into the hallway. I was nearing the corner before I heard him.

"Aobh!"

I continued walking around the corner, hoping to convince him that I hadn't heard.

"AOBH!"

I stopped, eyes screwed tight shut, desperately wanting the ground to swallow me up whole. He sounded absolutely furious, and I was failing miserably to control my nerves. I heard him round the corner behind me. I was shaking like a leaf, so far for controlling my emotions!

"Where are you going?" he demanded

"To fix this mess I've made. Like I was taught,"

And with that, I continued round the corner before he could see the state I was working myself into.

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><p><strong>Review? :3<strong>


	5. Chapter 5

**2 updates in a week? Wow!**

**11th Doctor and 3rd Aobh**

**Doctor Who belongs to the BBC**

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><p>There were many things wrong about the situation. The smell for one thing, was horrific. As if something had died and had been rotting for a few weeks. The silence as well. Not a sound could be heard but our own footsteps. The mice that had been running around the ships corridors had all fled to some unknown corner. All that was left was the steady, rhythmic echo of feet on metal grating.<p>

The man following behind me had not spoken for a good half hour, and the silence was killing me. I'm a chatty person, I can't help it, and even more so when I'm nervous. And by Rassilon, I was nervous. So me being me, I opened my big mouth.

"So how long have you guys been here?"

"Two years," came the short reply. Nothing more.

"Wow you must be really fed up of rations," I gave a nervous laugh. The man smiled back, but it didn't quite reach his eyes. His dark, black eyes.

Tap thud tap thud tap thud. On and on down the twisting metal corridor.

"How old are you?" The man asked suddenly. I tried not to look taken aback.

"Older than I look,"

"How old are you?" He repeated his question, no change in emotion evident.

"Twenty-eight," _As if I'd tell you, 'ya big weirdo._ "Why?"

"Just curious,"

We trudged on for another minute.

"How old are you then?" I asked, trying to fill the silence.

"Older than I look," He replied, the grin that spread across his face sickly and unnerving. Trying not to shudder, I looked away.

That grin seemed to be the centre of my discomfort. Never mind the smell of rotting flesh, or the lack of noise. That grin seemed wholly inhuman and completely wrong. It set my teeth on edge and made the hair on the back of my neck stand up. I felt in my gut that something was bad. And my gut was hardly ever wrong, apart from that one time on Cartonso 4, when I placed a bet on the Seahoppers to win the cup and they lost 256-1. But that's another story entirely.

"It's funny, you hear legends when you travel," His cold voice announced. I kept a straight face.

"Oh yeah, what sort of legends?"

"About a race of Lords. They ruled all of time and space and then they died out completely," He said in his drawl, eloquent voice.

"Well, nothing lasts forever," I replied, trying to keep my voice calm.

"Quite. But they say some of them survived,"

I didn't reply, and he took this as his cue to continue.

"They also say, that drinking the blood of one of these so called "Time Lords" would grant unimaginable power,"

"Vampirism isn't everything it's cracked up to be. Fish from space I tell you,"

"I agree entirely," He paused dramatically. "Extracting the bone marrow is far more effective,"

I jumped out of my skin as the comm device in my hand crackled loudly. The Doctor's voice echoed loudly through the corridor, and I breathed a sigh of relief.

_"Aobh, I've got you on the scanner now, you're almost at the door, I'll have to open it from this side,"_

"Brilliant, the scenery here is rubbish,"

_"What happened to your chum? What was his name again, Allain?"_

"Uhhh...Doctor he's right here,"

_"Can't be, I've only got one warm blooded life form on the scanner, he'd have to not be human,"_

Silence, filled with the crackling of the radio.

_"Aobh?"_

"M-must be a mistake," I managed to stutter out. "Meet me at the door in five,"

When I turned around Allain was grinning again. He looked slightly maniacal, and I could see the spit on his teeth, which looked far too big for his mouth.

"You okay there mate?" I asked evenly.

"Oh just perfect. I recognised your scent as soon as you landed on this space station," He hissed, taking a step towards me. I unconsciously took a step back,"

"Bit creepy there Allain, you'll never get a girlfriend with pick up lines like that,"

"So full of false confidence, but I can smell your fear. It hangs on you like a delicious scent," He licked his lips. "I can't wait to taste you,"

And then he was...transforming, for lack of a better word. His back arched, shoulders rotating in their sockets, legs following. The bones audibly cracked as they twisted into grotesque shapes, unlike any earthly creature. He dropped onto all fours, limbs pointing out sharply below his torso, like some weird, misshapen animal, who's bones had broken and been reset wrong. The sheer repulsiveness, sheer_wrongness_ of the creature brought a bile to my throat. It snarled, showing long, elongated teeth, and with a small whimper, I turned around and darted away.

The noise was suddenly deafening, the creatures insane growls, the sound of twin hearts pounding in my ears. A look over my shoulder confirmed my worst suspicions, it was gaining, lumbering unevenly on its four legs. Spotting the door ahead, I found an extra burst of speed, hitting the metal with a dull clang. It didn't open.

"DOCTOR OPEN THIS DOOR NOW!" I screamed into the comm.

_"I'm working on it, nearly there, give me a second-"_

"I DON'T HAVE A SECOND!"

Giving up hammering on the door in vain, I turned around to find that the creature had slowed, the horrible grin still on its features. It cracked as it moved, spit flying through the air. The smell of rotting flesh was overwhelming, and I fought the urge to wretch. The last thing I wanted to do before I died was puke my guts up.

"I...WILL...FEED!" It roared, lunging towards me.

And then with a dull pneumatic hiss, the metal slid open behind me, and a pair of tweed clad arms dragged me inside.

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><p><strong>Review? :3<strong>


	6. Wrong Part 2

**Hello! Thought I might do a part 2 for the last chapter because I just watched "Mama" and dear god, she is a perfect example of what the monster in the last chapter looked like in my head! So yeah inspiration. **

**If you haven't already, check out my Aobh-Doctor reunion fic Into The Mist, which I've been updating this week. **

**Enjoy!**

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><p><em>Last time...<em>

_Giving up hammering on the door in vain, I turned around to find that the creature had slowed, the horrible grin still on its features. It cracked as it moved, spit flying through the air. The smell of rotting flesh was overwhelming, and I fought the urge to wretch. The last thing I wanted to do before I died was puke my guts up._

_"I...WILL...FEED!" It roared, lunging towards me._

_And then with a dull pneumatic hiss, the metal slid open behind me, and a pair of tweed clad arms dragged me inside._

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><p>The door slid shut with a pneumatic hiss, and a loud thud, as the beast bounced off the other side. And then the room erupted into loud, panicked voices.<p>

"What in the blazes-"

"Did you kill it girl? I would have killed it!"

"We're all going to die! I'm too young to die!"

"Tell us all the details-"

"Red alert! Hostile in sector 1, repeat, hostile in-"

"Aobh, are you quite alright, you look awfully pale," The Doctor, who was closest, on account of him being the one who dragged me through the door, commented.

And then I did something quite out of character. Honestly, I'm usually quite a stable person, comes with the life I suppose. But that was when I took a large gulping swallow, before muttering "-think I'm gonna be sick-" and pushing through the crowd of people.

There was a set of swing doors ahead, and I pushed through these, nearly running down the corridor ahead. The sound of my feet on the metal gratings, much like those I'd been running down moments ago, made the rising lump in my throat worse, as I struggled to hold my lunch of ham sandwiches down. Rounding the corner, I spotted a perfect escape route, as three men came pushing a large wheeled trolley along, the TARDIS sitting astride. Before they could utter so much as a "Stop, what are you doing, you ain't allowed in there!" I had whipped my key from my pocket, opened the door and slammed it shut behind me.

Leaning on the doors behind, I took a steadying breath. The air inside the TARDIS was cooler, refreshing, and being inside its great depths calmed me greatly. Inside this ship, I was safe. Alright, so there were a few dubious rooms and corridors I avoided, but that's a story for another time. My legs still felt like jelly, so I sought out a seat, finding the perfect spot in the hanging plinth on the floor below that the Doctor used for repairs. It floated above the great black circles of goop that cooled the time rotor, hanging below the glass floor above. And it was there, winging my feet idly that the Doctor found me.

"What was all that about ey? You didn't puke on my console did you? You know the TARDIS gets moody when that happens," The Doctor scolded and he walked across the platform above but I could hear the smile in his voice.

"Nah no vomit, I promise, scouts honor," I called over my shoulder.

"You were never in the girl scouts, you were too old,"

"Fancy that, I was 304, how's that too old for girl scouts," I smiled as he hopped down the stairs, coming to a stop in front of me. His smile faded slightly. Serious time.

"Are you alright though? What did happen?"

"I dunno. It's hard to explain. That...that thing was just so wrong, so unnatural, I could feel it in my bones. Like my body was telling me to run, not my brain," I explained, looking down before adding quietly, "It was the fear. Makes me sick to the stomach just thinking about it,"

"That's nothing to be ashamed off Aobh," He replied quietly. I looked up, opening my mouth to argue but he cut me off. "Eh no excuses, I know you, I know this regeneration, too quick to hide any emotion you think is negative. But fear keeps us alive. What you experienced was obviously some form of deep primal fight or flight. I think our kind may have met these monster at some point, a long time ago. Alain must have been lying dormant for millions of years. The nausea, it's natural, your bodies way of saying "get out while you can,""

"What would happen. If he did eat one of us that is. He said he's suck out the marrow of our bones," I shivered, my voice giving away how disgusted I was, spitting out the words.

"It would spoil him, most definitely. After one Time Lord, he would need more to sustain himself, or forever be hungry. And once we're both devoured, then he's stuck, there's no one left to eat. So he'd devour the rest of the universe. And still not be satisfied,"

I swung quietly on the seat for a few moments, chewing my bottom lip, stomach doing nervous flips. The Doctor reached down ruffling my messy hair so that its strands fell in front of my eyes where I had to blow them away. "Penny for your thoughts miss,"

"We have to stop him,"

"Yes,"

"And he's got my scent,"

"Yes, he has,"

I hopped down off the seat. The top of my head barely reached the Doctor's shoulders, great big lanky git that he was. If he wasn't my brother, I'd swear his mother had been a giraffe.

"Then I'll have to be bait,"

He gave a sigh. "I was worried you might say that,"

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><p><strong>Gah I love AobhDoctor interactions. Blahhhgrh! Especially silly ones! Writing human!Aobh is excruciating in the main fic, she's just so...boring haha**

**Review?**


	7. Chapter 7

**A 10th Doctor one this time! **

**Enjoy!**

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><p>It was hot work walking in this heat. The mid-day sun was beating down on the back of his head, soaking into the material of his shirt. He'd taken his suit jacket off a while ago, and it now swung lazily over his shoulder. His shirt sleeves were rolled up, tie and top few buttons loosened. From the top of the hill, you could seen for miles, acres and acres of the lush English country side spread out before him. Most of it was farmland, much like the land he stood on now, and in the distance, a great shining snake that was the river curved past. The sky was a clear, startling blue, not a cloud to me seen. It certainly was good weather.<p>

The Doctor had agreed to meet Aobh in the meadow at the top of the hill, and that was where he was stood. Behind him sat the old white farmhouse and out buildings, and he could hear the whinnying of the shire horse as it pulled the farm equipment from the yard. But there was still no sign off Aobh.

He contented himself with watching the swallows swoop and glide over the ground, catching butterflies as they flitted from wild flower to wild flower, until he began to idly wonder if he should go and find his sister. Just as he began to worry however, he spotted a figure clambering over the fence off to his right. He could tell it was her from the patterned skirt that was blowing in the slight breeze, and the awkwardly clumsy way she climbed, nearly falling over as she landed in the field, and disguising it with an old skip.

As the figure drew closer, which took longer than expected because she kept crouching down to look at flowers, he noticed she was clutching a piece of paper in one hand. She gave a wave, which he returned, and then began to half run, half skip over to where he stood.

"Look look!" She waved the paper at him excitedly. "Village fair on Saturday! Can we go? They're selling fresh strawberries and raspberries!"

The Doctor feigned a fake look of indecisiveness, smiling quietly to himself about how much he looked like a small child showing off a drawing or begging to get some sweets. "Well...alright,"

"Oh thank you thank you thank you!" She cried excitedly, tugging on his hand before plopping herself down in the grass where she watched the butterflies fluttering about once more.

It had been around a month since the two had been reunited in the stormy Scottish glen, and the Doctor was still astonished at how fascinated Aobh was with...well everything. Everywhere they stopped she marveled at everyday things, and he didn't blame her. Centuries of Time War followed by close to a decade stuck in a watch would make anyone excited about life. And he liked to see her happy, it reminded him of the times he would whisk her away for an adventure or two from the Academy when she was younger.

"So how's the screwdriver coming along?" He asked, joining her on the ground. It was warm and comfortable from the day's sun.

"Meh, getting there I suppose," She replied, pouting slightly as she fished it from her pocket, handing it to the Doctor.

He gulped. "Right. Umm. Well the design is interesting, rustic almost, I like what you've done with the wire-"

"If you're going to make fun of it, give it here!" She moaned, grabbing the device off the grinning man before inspecting it. It was very...basic. The wires were a jumbled mess, and the light at the end blinked feebly. It gave a dull fizzing buzz when she pressed the button.

"How many settings does it have?" The Doctor asked.

"Two,"

He raised an eyebrow, smirking slightly in question.

"It screws things in and it screws things out alight? What more would you need from a screwdriver?!" She huffed in reply.

"Well..." He stopped, noticing a figure approaching from behind Aobh, with what looked like a spade. The girl noticed his focus change and looked over her shoulder, squinting against the sun to see.

"Oh it's just Mr Gordon the farmer," She clambered to her feet and called to him. "Hello Mr Gordon! Fine afternoon!"

There was no answer. He just kept advancing, clutching his spade tightly. The Doctor rose also, stepping in front of his sister slightly, a hand pushing her back behind him. He had a bad feeling about this.

"Everything alright Mr Gordon-" Before he could finish his sentence, Mr Gordon swung his spade lazily at the Doctor's head, hitting him above the eye.

Aobh gave a startled cry as he went down, pushed away by his falling body, and watched in horror as Mr Gordon advanced on the Doctor once more, taking the spade by the base of the handle, aiming it sharp side down at the Doctor's exposed and soft neck. The Doctor's eyes flickered open, rolling slightly as he tried to get his bearings, only to see the farmer poised above him, ready to decapitate the Time Lord. There was a cry to his left, and the farmer was barreled out of the way, a smaller figure crashing into him at what seemed to be a run.

The girl and the farmer rolled over one an other down the hill for a shirt time, each one with a tight grip on the spade. The came to a sudden and painful stop as she felt her back hit a rock jutting out from the ground, jarring into her. Mr Gordon lay on top, beads of sweat rolling down his face. His eyes were completely white, no iris or pupil to be seen, not even any veins. Just a startling milking white. There was no sign of emotion on his face except determination, as he slowly pressed the handle of the spade into Aobh's neck, choking her. Her hands grasped desperately at the wood, trying to push up from under him, but the man was much larger, and much stronger from his years working in the fields. The wood pressed lower and lower, painfully cutting of the air supply. She began to gasp, trying to pull in great mouthfuls of air, but it wasn't working, she was slowly choking. A shadow fell across the pair, and with a grunt, the farmer was forcefully pulled off the girl, the spade wrenched from his grip. As soon as his weapon was parted from him, he grew limp, folding to the ground, out cold.

The Doctor pulled Aobh up by the hand, where she stood massaging her abused neck. The air that she gasped in greedily seemed sweet and plentiful. Her brother stopped down, hands on her shoulders, and it was then she noticed his head.

"Your bleeding!" She gasped hoarsely, reaching up to touch the quickly bruising spot above the Doctor's eyebrow. He winced.

"And probably slightly concussed, but it's a good job he didn't knock me out completely. Look at you neck, " He gently pushed Aobh's chin up, inspecting the great swath of red that lay underneath.

"I'll be fine," she replied to his fussing, her husky voice making him frown further.

"Looks like we have a mystery to solve before we can get any strawberries," The Doctor stood back up, folding his arms and looking down at the unconscious farmer.

"I was worried you might say that," came the disappointed reply.

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	8. Chapter 8

**No Doctor in this one. 11th era though, time for some Rory!**

**Enjoy!**

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><p>Chapter 8. New Body<p>

The last of the golden vapor had only just escaped my mouth an hour ago. It had been a tough regeneration this time, I'd been dead for a good few minutes before the process kicked in properly, with only enough time to struggle onto my hands and knees before exploding out into an arc of golden fire. It seemed to go on and on, an endless burst of light, until it stopped as suddenly as it had begun. And it was then, dazed, head still aching, I realised I was alone.

The Doctor had ran off in pursuit of Professor Hanson, the mad man who had attempted to extract my memories by force, shattering my mind and killing me in the process. I'd stumbled from the room, aware of how painfully my toes were stuffed into my now too small Converse, stopping every few minutes to hiss golden vapor from my new, protesting body, determined to stop the Doctor from doing something stupid and getting himself killed. But that's a story for another time perhaps.

Because I had more pressing things on my mind. Like deciding what to wear. And getting reacquainted with my brother and his companions. Something that was making me a lot more nervous than I'd like to admit.

The TARDIS wardrobe was huge covering almost four floors with wardrobes and rails of clothing from throughout time and space. So naturally, it was practically impossible to find anything. I'd tried jeans and combat trousers, frilly dresses and power suits, but there was nothing that was just...right. Until finally, as I was about to give up, I passed a large wardrobe that hung open, a pile of neon falling out of it announcing clothes from 1980s Earth. And poking out from under that pile was something denim. I gave it a tug, and out came a dungaree dress. And then I was off, picking up odds and ends that suddenly made sense, suddenly fitted together, before finally coming to a stop in front of the massive ornate mirror at the centre of the room. I'd chosen a black baggy t-shirt for under the dress, black leggings and a heavy pair of black combat boots, that made a loud clumping sound when I walked, so much sturdier than those sand-shoes I'd been wearing before. Yes, this felt right. It was decided.

But now that I'd picked out the clothes...I didn't wan't to leave. I didn't want to face the others, what if they thought I looked stupid? What if they didn't like my new personality, or laughed at my voice. What if they thought my hair was funny, after all, I'd been a little disappointed to find the shoulder length straw like mop now on my head. Taking a deep breath, I headed for the door.

I stumbled upon Amy, carrying a bucket filled with ice and bottles, as I came into the console room. She gave me a grin, lifting the bucket slightly.

"Got us a few drinks! It's a pretty nice night out, the boys have got a picnic set up and ready, think we all need a break after that last one," She sat the bucket down on the floor, before standing up and placing her hands on her hips. "Must say, loving the dress, nice choice there,"

"Thanks Amy, that mean's a lot," I grinned, feeling better. "Need a hand?"

"Oh you're a life saver! I'll take one side, you take the other,"

Throwing the TARDIS doors wide for more space, we shuffled through the door awkwardly, carrying the heavy bucket between us. Amy had been right, it was a beautiful night, the sun was just beginning to set, and there was a meteor shower beginning on the horizon. The TARDIS had landed on the brow of a hill, and that's where The Doctor and Rory sat, picnic blanket out, jackets off and sleeves rolled up, enjoying the evening air.

"Oi! You lads just sit there and let us carry the heavy bucket why dontcha!" Amy shouted at them, and I gave a chuckle as Rory scampered up , grabbing the bucket from his fiance and I. The Doctor rose more slowly, ringing his hands together slowly as he approached.

"What did you bring Pond?" He asked, peeking into the ice filled bucket.

"Some beers, couple of cokes and a few bottles of cider," She said, straitening up. "No idea what you spacemen drink, so I brought everything,"

"I have no idea what I drink either," I replied, receiving a grin in return before Amy skipped off to sit down beside her fiance.

The Doctor lingered, fiddling with his braces awkwardly, and I realised suddenly that he was as nervous as I was. It had been pretty awkward since the Doctor had regenerated. I had still been grieving his last incarnation while he was whizzing about, never stopping never looking back. We'd had a fair few arguments, in fact, we hadn't really talked normally for a while. I felt my palms getting sweaty, and my heart beats pick up. _Straight face. Come on, don't show him how worried you are. _

"How're you feeling?" He spoke finally, after watching me, appraising, for a moment.

"Yeah, better. Stopped spouting gold stuff anyway. And-and the headache, that's gone,"

"Good, good,"

It was quiet again, save for the sound of Amy and Rory chatting a few metres away. I took a breath. Bit the bullet.

"Look Doctor, I'm sorry-"

"No no, don't apologise, you have nothing to apologise for," He cut me off, turning to face me completely.

"No I do. I wasn't fair. I got too wrapped up in the whole four-knocks-Doctor's-going-to-die business, I should have just gotten over it instead of moping about. So I'm sorry I didn't even give you a chance,"

"Oh Aobhee," The Doctor gave a small smile. "You were suffering, and I was too stubborn to see it,"

He wrapped his arms around me, pulling me into his chest and placing his head on my shoulder. My arms hung awkwardly at my sides, as if I'd forgotten what to do. The hug was one of desperation, and I could hear the tremble in his voice when he spoke again.

"I thought I'd lost you again,"

I took a deep breath hands reaching up to snake around his back and return the hug in full. This felt right. In fact, I felt better than I had since the Doctor's regenerated. I knew I belonged again.

"I'm not going anywhere,"

With a final squeeze, The Doctor broke the hug, placing a quick kiss on the top of my head. As he pulled away, I could see the tears in his eyes, but he blinked them away quickly, his face lively once more, and took my hand, dragging me over to the picnic blanket.

"Better grab some food before these two eat all of it!" He announced lively, gaining a shrug from Amy.

"Hey you snooze you lose," She replied, before stuffing a sandwich in her mouth.

"Did you just eat the last cheese and tomato one?" Rory asked, before moaning at Amy's replied nod.

The girl laughed, before revealing a plate from behind her back. "I'm only joking, here, I save one for you,"

I selected a ham sandwich, pausing to nibble at the corner and confirm that yes indeed, I did like ham sandwiches, when I felt the Doctor freeze suddenly beside me.

"Everybody stop what you're doing!" He stated hurriedly.

We all looked up with bated breath, sandwiches half way to our mouths, waiting on whatever dangerous situation we were about to find ourselves in.

"We forgot the fish fingers and custard!"

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><p><strong>Yay :)<strong>

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	9. Chapter 9

**Hey :) Go check out Aobh's main story, Into The Mist! Things are getting tense!**

**Enjoy!**

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><p>Chapter 9. Fallen<p>

My hand was sweaty, and I could feel the grip failing, greasy skin against greasy skin. The harder I gripped his hand, the faster it started to slip. My hearts were pounding in my chest, I couldn't take in enough air. The rough grit and rocks were scratching my legs, my tights already ripped and dusty. I felt him slip again, and scooted forward on my stomach, boots skittering over the loose dirt, as I attempted to adjust my grip around his wrist.

"Give me your other hand!" I shouted, and I could hear the panic in my voice. "Reach!"

The Doctor swung his tweed clad arm as far as possible, and I felt the finger tips of my left hand skim his. But it was enough. With another jerk, he slipped further out of my grip.

"Aobh this isn't going to work!" He told me, his voice deadly calm. "You're going to fall off after me,"

"I am not letting go!" I hissed through clenched teeth, feeling myself sliding forward, being pulled by his weight. "Amy and Rory are coming, just _hold on_!"

The cliff edge began to crumble again, just as it had done moments before when it had sent the Doctor plummeting over the edge. A large chunk broke off under my chest, and I felt myself fall suddenly forward, my skittering feet the only thing keeping me from falling over myself. I felt the Doctor's grip loosen, the only thing suspending him above the churning ocean below was my sweaty grip.

"What are you doing!? I can't hold you like that!"

I could hear footsteps in the distance now, running towards us, and shouting. Amy and Rory were presumably running up the hill behind us. But they were going to be too late. The Doctor's hand was quickly slipping now, my fingers grasping desperately. He took a good look below his feet, watching the wild water below, before looking up at me calmly. His ancient eyes were sad, but there was a small smile on his face, one I suppose was supposed to be reassuring.

"You know what to do," he told me quietly, and then my grip failed completely, and he slid out of my grasp, plummeting down towards the water below, which he hit with a thunderous splash.

"No. No this can't be happening," my hands were still grasping at thin air over the cliff face as I heard footsteps thudding behind me.

"Doctor!? Doctor?!" Amy's cry was urgent and scared as she appeared in my peripheral vision, peering over the edge. "Oh God no..."

Her hand went to her mouth, covering it on shock, before the cliff edge began to crumble once again, and Rory grabbed her, pulling her away from the edge. I scrambled back myself, just in time, as the whole cliff face disintegrated where I had been lying, falling into the water with a thunderous roar. I felt a hand on my shoulder, pulling me further back.

"I'm sorry Aobh, I'm sorry we didn't get here on time-" Rory told me sincerely, but I cut him off.

"He's not dead! He _can't_ be!"

"But that fall, and the water-" Amy's voice was choked with emotion as she held back tears. My own tears would not come. There was no grief, no anger. I just felt dead inside.

"He's. Not. Dead," I stated quietly, brushing myself down, red dust and grit falling off me in clouds.

"What are we going to do?" Rory asked, one arm around his wife, looking grim.

"We're going to carry on. We're going to find out what's happening here and we're going to stop it. And we're going to find him. Because he's not dead," My jaw was set, I was determined. _You know what to do_.

"The sea is eating people. That's what the townsfolk said. You think it's done the same to the Doctor?" Amy asked.

"I think so, yes. Those cliffs shouldn't be eroding that quickly, it's the wrong type of rock. Somethings going on. Come on,"

We started to make our way along the cliff top, buffeted by the wind and the spray of the churning water. The castle sat tall and proud before us, an ever watchful guardian of the sea. It's walls were hard, dark and unforgiving, canons lined the battlements, and thin windows looked out of the thick rock towards the ocean. A lone guard stood watching us, helmet covering his face. After a few moments of staring, he disappeared below the battlements.

"What was that all about?" Amy muttered, frowning up at the walls. Rory shrugged, keeping his head down against the wind. I watched the walls for a few moments longer before doing the same.

It was just like every other time. That's what I was telling myself anyway. The Doctor had a habit of convincing himself and others that he was heading to his death, only to surprise them all at the last minute and pop up alive and well. And it would just be another one of those times. Still, it didn't stop the ball of gnawing panic that sat at the bottom of her stomach. What if he didn't come back this time? His near-death experiences (or should that be death experiences) always ended with a regeneration, and as difficult as that could be...at least he was alive. One of these days, something was going to happen, and the Doctor wasn't going to come out the other end in one piece. _Oh please don't let it be this time. _

"So what's the plan then?" Amy asked, clambering over the rocky path behind me.

"We need to get down to the water. I'm going to try and get some samples, see if the TARDIS can analyse them. And then work from there. Maybe see if we can check out the castle later,"

"Any idea what we're looking for?" Came Rory's question. I gave a sigh and stopped.

"I've got a bit of a confession to make," The Ponds stopped also, looking at me with interest. "I don't often...head up the investigation...as it were. And when I do, things don't often go to plan I-" I floundered, trying to find the words. "I mean the Doctor doesn't tell me all of his plans, he likes to surprise people and look clever, and he thinks on the spot a lot. I'm just- I'm kind of just grasping blindly at straws here. So bare with me,"

"Aobh really?" Rory crossed his arms "The Doctor does exactly the same! I guarantee, he has no idea what he's doing half of the time,"

"No idea," Amy leaned, smirking.

"And we're not going to just leave you to it. We'll help anyway we can,"

I gave a nervous smile of thanks, and then awkwardly motioned that we should keep going. The wind was getting stronger, and we were almost bent double. Amy and I's hair kept whipping in our faces and mouths, and there were fine grains of sand blasting at us. And then I spotted it, as the beach came into view, something washed up on the sand, a dark spot.

"Look!" I pointed excitedly. This was it, he was back! Everything was going to okay after all.

We hurried along the thin path as it wove through the long grass down the hill towards the beach. I hit the sand at a run, boots sinking into the soft texture, and stumbled, but kept going, running unevenly towards the shape. The determined grin on my face began to slip as we got closer. It's too small. It's not him. But...

I slowed, approaching the soaked tween blazer despondently. It was heavy with water, and there was sand covering it. With horror, I noticed the right shoulder was a dark red colour, blood soaked in. I crouched down, grabbing the coat with shaking fingers, and lifted it, water dripping down the sand below. I felt Amy's hand on my shoulder, comforting, but a deadly cold was spreading throughout my body. I refused to believe it.

Stiff upper lip. I would go on, and I would find him.

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><p><strong>Just something a bit different, hope you liked it :)<strong>

Review!

**Review?**


	10. Chapter 10

**Hey :) Go check out Aobh's main story, Into The Mist! It's finished at last!**

**11 again :)**

**Enjoy!**

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><p>Chapter 10. Growing Pains.<p>

"Ah," The Doctor stood, looking awkwardly down at the figure before him. "Ah well, this causes a slight problem doesn't it,"

The stiffly suited man behind him gave a bored sniff. The Doctor glanced over his shoulder nervously at him. He stood with his arms held tightly behind his back, almost like an old butler, mustache wiggling on his upper lip. He was every essence of the word pompous. And the Doctor didn't like him at all.

"Sir, do you, or do you not claim responsibility for the child," He drawled, looking impatient.

"Strictly speaking, she's not a child, well she is, but she isn't-" The Doctor had turned, giving a nervous smile, but was cut of sharply.

"Sir, you are wasting my valuable time, either take the child, or leave her and I shall see that she is placed with child services-"

"No no no no no! I'll take her, I'll take her!" The Doctor strode purposely forward, taking the little girl by the hand and marching from the room. Her little legs struggled to keep up with his loping gait, and she had to half run along after him, clinging to his hand.

"Doctor," the girl squeaked, and he look down, never breaking his stride. "Doctor what are we gonna do?"

He kept walking, his pace still quick. They hit the revolving door, squeezing into one section together, the Doctor pushing the little girl gently in front of him.

"Find out what's caused this. Or who,"

The came out into the chilly morning air outside of the hospital. The smell of smoke filled the air, and although it was morning, a thin layer of smog covered the sky. Great black clouds were being pumped out of the factories that surrounded the city, and the air was full of the sound of hissing steam and the click clattering of clockwork gears as the morning commuters hurried by on their strange steam and gear driven vehicles. An old lady went past in what appeared to be a wheelchair, until the Doctor realised that she was completely clockwork from the waist down.

"Remarkable," he gave a little smile to himself, and then started to skip down the stairs. A dead weight at the end of his arm told him that the girl wasn't following. He stopped, turning around to find her bottom lip wobbling dangerously. Great big fat tears were threatening to roll down her face, and her nose was already snotty.

"Doctor, I don't want to be stuck!" She cried. "I'm scared!"

And then the flood gates opened and the tears were streaming down her face as she started to hiccup.

"Oh come now shh shh!" He comforted, crouching down to her level. "I'll work something out! I always do don't I?"

The girl frowned, her bottom lip sticking out. "Not always. Sometimes you need me to do the thinking,"

"Too right I do," He grinned, tweaking her nose. "But I need you to be brave, do you think you can do that for me?"

She gave a big sniff, wiping her snotty nose on her sleeve and then nodded. The Doctor wrinkled up his face in slight disgust before pulling out a cloth handkerchief from his pocket which she took without complaint, and wiped her face properly.

"There we go! That's my girl, come here," The Doctor held his arms open, and the small girl wrapped her little arms around his neck in a tight hug. He stood up, supporting her weight against his hip, and then started off down the steps into the street. He felt the girl worm closer, getting comfortable, and then she hid her face, pressing it into the skin at his neck. It was still damp from the tears and slightly snotty, but he didn't protest. First they would return to the TARDIS and do some scans. From there...well he'd work that out on the run, as per usual.

"Come on Aobhee. Let's get you back to normal eh?"

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><p><strong>Just too cute gah. I just finished The Dalek Generation by Nicholas Briggs (which is fantastic, try it out!) and 11 with kids is just the best thing ever. EVER. So yeah, time to do the "character-gets-turned-into-a-kid-trope" haha<strong>

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	11. Chapter 11

**So this one is more of an outpouring of thoughts I suppose. Ahh anyway, hope you like it.**

**11**

**Enjoy!**

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><p><span>Chapter 11. Dating Problems<span>

I am 598 years old. Give or take. I've kind of lost count along the way, it's impossible to keep up really. But I'm pretty old right? Yeah well that's what I thought. Apparently the Doctor does not agree.

So there's a couple hundred years age gap between us. I'm pretty much the definition of a kid sister, except that I've grown up. The problem is that he doesn't seem to have realised this. And sometimes that's a good thing, but others...well it can be a right pain in the neck. An example you say? Well lets have a think.

I'll set the scene shall I? It's 1950s America. We're working on a case with some government agency, the FBI, CIA, Torchwood US, I forget which, all of those earth organisations blur into one for me. Anyway, point is, there's this guy, three piece suit, sharp hair, late 20s, and I have to say, he was pretty damn handsome. We've been working with him for a few days, and he's flirting big time. I've spent the majority of my time blushing, which he just replies to with a knowing smirk. It's infuriating. But what's even more annoying is the Doctor, who keeps bursting in, floppy hair waving in his face, goofy grin plastered across his features. At first I'm pretty sure that it's all a coincidence, and then the guy asks me out for a drink, and I realise that_ the git is doing it on purpose. _

He pops up from behind the shelf of files we're sorting through, looking a little flustered.

"Sorry we, and by we, I mean my sister and I, have already got plans tonight,"

I look at him, not impressed. He purses his lips slightly, and gives me that look. The one that says play along. I turn back to suit guy, smiling.

"I have no idea what he's talking about, I'm completely free toni-"

"Ahh but Aobh, you need to do that thing," He strides round the shelf, standing behind me, fidgeting with his thumbs hooked in behind his braces.

"That thing," I state, deadpan.

"Yes, the _thing_," He emphasizes, unable to keep still. "The very important thing you promised me you would do tonight,"

I blinked, and then turned back to suit guy.

"What time shall I meet you?"

He looks slightly uncomfortable now, but still manages to play it cool, slicking his perfect hair back. "Well if tonight is too busy, how about tomorrow night?"

"Can't," Comes the Doctor's voice before I can even answer. "She can't, the thing will stretch on 'till then," He gave a small grin. "It's a big thing,"

"Tonight, 7pm? Pick me up at that big hotel down the street, whatsit called, the Grande or something?"

"Great. It's a date then," suit guys smiles, picking up the file we needed and heading for the door.

"Well not a _really_ a date," The Doctor guffawed. "A meeting between colleagues. But I can't wait all the same, see you there!"

"But no, sorry Doc, I didn't mean-" suit guy started to protest, but I gave him a wave, and a small nod that I hoped said_ I'll deal with this. _He looked unsure, but after a moment, headed out of the room. I turned back to the Doctor.

"What in the blazes are you _doing_? What is your problem?!"

He crossed his arms, letting out a big huff. "He is too old for you!"

"HE is too old for ME? Are you serious? Or have you finally lost your marbles?"

He huffed and puffed, clearly trying to think of an argument, and then just settled for a good old "That's beside the point!"

I could feel my temper rising, but I gritted my teeth, taking a steadying breath, and then jabbed my finger into his chest, emphasising each word.

"You. Are. Not. Coming. Too!"

He grabbed my finger on the last jab, great bottom jaw wobbling as he drew himself up to full size. He towered over me, practically gargantuan, and it would have been enough to terrify anyone, but I knew this tactic, and I stood my ground, finger still clutched in his grip.

"I'm not letting you-"

"Let go of my finger!"

He let go.

"I'm not letting you trounce off with some...some flirt!"

"I let you trounce off with River! You don't hear me complaining about that!"

"That's different!" He huffed indignantly.

"Oh poppycock!" I scoffed

I had him though. There was no argument he could think of that made sense, and he knew it. He shuffled about, opening his mouth like a fish and rubbing his hands together as he thought, and then with a great frustrated groan, he strode from the room. A minor victory.

Why a minor victory you ask? Because he followed us the whole night that's why.

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	12. Chapter 12

**Im cleaning up my profile, and thought this fic would fit in with the series :) So apologies for the repost!**

**This was written when I had the flu, yay for insperation!**

**Aobh belongs to me (Pronounced Eve)**

**Doctor Who belongs to the BBC**

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><p><span>Chapter 12. Ciradonian Flu<span>

Our day out had been a fun one, and we'd only had to escape a near death experience once, which was good for us, the time travelling duo. A good amount of time had been spent running, but we'd had time to witness the collision of the crystals of Ciradon, an event that only happened once every 2000 years. It had been a beautiful sight, a ripple of colours and sparks across the dark caves, dazzling the beholders eyes. But now the effects had worn off,I was starting to feel decidedly odd.

The walk back to the TARDIS had taken about half an hour in earth measurements, and it had been leisurely enough, down hill all the way. But I found herself panting by the time we reached the time machine, something I rarely did. A Timelord's lungs could put up with a much greater amount of stress than a humans, and the binary vascular system, two hearts to you and me, provided much more stamina. So why was I so worn out?

The Doctor swung the TARDIS doors open, hurrying over to the console where he began to twiddle dials and pull levers. He was talking, but after a sudden wave of dizzyness, I hadn't heard, sitting down on the wobbling captain's chair beside the console, where I realised that the Doctor was still talking.

"Aobh are you listening?" He was asking, a frown imminent on his young features. "Are you feeling all right? You look a pit pale,"

"Well now that you mention it...I do feel a little...poorly," I replied before ruffling my hair, a habit of mine. "Nothing to worry about though, onwards we go then?"

The Doctor was having none of it though, and he cleared the space between us quickly. A hand was placed on my forehead, and I frowned. Before I could stop him, he'd swooped down, and was pulling my bottom jaw down, shining the light of the sonic screwdriver in my mouth and clicking his tongue.

"Just as I suspected," He sighed "Ciradonian flu, it's highly contagious, but otherwise harmless,"

"How come you don't have it then?" I replied, noting that my voice suddenly sounded stuffy. This was a fast acting flu.

"Already had it, caught it off a travelling carpet seller on Symbot 4," he gave a small smile.

"I'll go make a cup of tea then," I began to get up, but the Doctor grabbed my shoulders, shaking his head.

"This isn't your run of the mill flu, even Timelords can't shake it off with a cup of tea! Luckily, it only lasts 24 hours, until then, bed,"

"I'm f-"

"Oh no no no no," He cut off my protest, steering me up the steps behind the console, "I'm not having you sneezing up the console room, you need bed rest, and that's the Doctor's orders!"

I scowled at the laughter on his face, it was evident that he was proud of the little joke he had made. The scowl soon vanished though as a violent sneeze burst from my mouth. I gave a groan, and gave in to his steering.

My bedroom was a short walk away, a left, a right, down a flight of steps, doubling back and then straight on past the ball room. I have no problem telling you all this of course because you're humans! You'll never remember!

The room was made up of mainly wood and golden inlay. A large fake window sat on one wall and could display a location of my choosing. It was set to a rough ocean on earth at the moment, the waves crashing against the rocks below. Book shelves lined the walls, all worn and read numerous times. These were only a small proportion of our collection, the rest remained in the library. The shelves around the room were cluttered, a mix match of earth objects, some broken, some brand new all around the room. It whirred with the sound of clockwork, and numerous different "tick tocks" echoed at different times, just the way I liked it. I often collected a new clock every time we visited a spot I particularly liked, and the time would be kept by the clock for each area.

This all went unnoticed however, I was now shivering madly, the hair on my arms standing up painfully. Every move was agony. I hadn't had flu this bad since I was fifty! Pulling back the covers, I through myself into bed, not bothering to change. The Doctor was fussing like an old lady, taking my shoes off and chucking them over his shoulder before pulling the covers up to my chin.

"Right, a nice hot bowl of chicken soup is what you need. Or fish custard?" He asked expectantly.

"Think I'll just stick with the soup thanks," I replied, nose stuffy.

As he bustled away, I pulled the covers higher, but the shivering got worse until my teeth started to chatter. My throat felt like I'd been eating razor blades, and I had a tickle in my chest, which slowly built up until I was racked by a violent coughing that felt like it was splitting my sides. I screwed my eyes shut and tried to sleep.

My dreams were weird and extremely vivid. Past monsters surfaced, wearing odd clothing, a Sontaran ran past me in a tutu, and I saw the faces of long dead friends. Disconnected music played and I seemed to be floating. The whole time I was freezing, searching for a coat. A bang echoed out and I shuddered awake to find my face drenched in a cold sweat. The Doctor was walking through the now open door, tray perched on one hand.

"Chicken soup for m'lady!" he proclaimed, sitting on the edge of the bed.

I took the spoon, still shivering and tasted the steaming liquid. But there was no taste. I gave a groan of frustration, and after a few more sips, I gave up. The covers were pulled higher still, and I was visible shaking now. The Doctor placed the tray on the floor with a sigh, and shuffled up the bed so he was sitting beside me. He took off his tweed jacket, removing the sonic screwdriver from the pocket and draped it around my shoulders. He waved the sonic with a short buzz and I felt the temperature of the room rise slightly. Another buzz towards the window and the scene changed. It was Gallifrey, the twin suns low in the sky and the grass glowing red. The mountains stood stark in the background, and the room was bathed in a golden glow. Satisfied with his work, he put one arm round my shoulders pulling me close.

"There we go Aobhee, just like home," he said softly, his voice almost a whisper. I sniffed pathetically, and he sat back against the wall, absently stroking my shoulder.

"Thanks," I said quietly, and he replied with a faint smile, gazing at the window opposite. I sneezed twice, loudly.

"Good job the Doctor is in," He chuckled

"Ugh these Doctor jokes make me feel worse," I replied, but managed a small smile.

And it was there that I finally drifted to sleep, finally warm and bathed in the glow of Gallifrey, head snuggled in to the Doctor's shoulder. Being with family was the best cure I could ask for.

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><p><strong>Review?<strong>


	13. Chapter 13

**Hey guys! Here's another one, 11th Doctor again, enjoy! It's a sequel to chapter 9, so it might be a good idea to read that first! :)**

**Aobh belongs to me (Pronounced Eve)**

**Doctor Who belongs to the BBC**

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><p>Chapter 13. Wet Dog Smell.<p>

The towns people were ecstatic. Their relatives had started turning up about an hour ago, in dribs and drabs first, and then in small waves. There were children and grandparents, brothers and sisters, even a family dog, which ran up to its young owner barking happily, before launching itself at them. Some people were crying, others laughing, but it was clear, all were overjoyed that the nightmare was over. But there was one person who didn't seem to share their sentiment.

She'd feigned happiness whenever one of them approached her. She smiled and shook their hands, done the modest speech that seemed to happen on every adventure. If the circumstances were different, she may have felt a little proud of herself, for solving the mystery, saving the towns people, defeating the watery menace, all with the help of Amy and Rory of course. Things couldn't have gone better, save for one problem. The Doctor hadn't come back.

She blamed herself, that much was obvious. She kept replaying the events on the cliff in my head. _I should have held on tighter, tried harder to reach his other hand, pulled him up even. But I failed. _The Doctor had plunged into the black, churning water below. She had convince myself that he'd be back, that he had been taken like the villagers. But then where was he? No, this time, he was gone. The Doctor was dead, and it was her fault.

Amy and Rory were amongst the towns people. Many were thanking them, blessing them for their troubles. They kept looking over at the girl, half heartedly replying to the voices around them. Amy was extremely pale, close to panicking probably. Rory had his arm wrapped tightly around his wife's waist, not letting go. She couldn't look at them, couldn't speak. They gave her some space, they knew. They knew she was struggling.

So what now? Life without the Doctor was different. Even when she had been alone, she had known he was out there somewhere, saving planets, making friends and enemies. But he was gone. The TARDIS was the closest thing to home, but the ship belonged to him, just as much as he belonged the TARDIS. She was the very last of her kind, no family, nothing. And it was very lonely position to be in. She felt old for the first time in, well, ever. She'd outlived everyone she'd ever cared for, ever known. The people around her were children in comparison. And yet despite her sudden realistion of age, she felt like a lost child herself.

A cry came up from the road, a small voice, and the girl sprang up expectantly, chest heaving. A young girl was running towards the crowd from the castle, grinning madly. Her clothes were plain, a serving girl by the looks of it, and she couldn't have been older than thirteen, fourteen. She stumbled over the dusty ground, but managed to stop herself from falling. There was no deterring her from her destination. A figure stepped out of the crowd, soaking wet, a rough woollen blanket wrapped around his shoulders. He wore the under tunic of a knight, possibly a guard from the castle, and looked much older than the girl, possibly a good ten years.

"Brother!" She cried happily, "Brother!" reaching him at a run and launching herself at him, where he grabbed her around the waist, spinning them both as she giggled, tears in her eyes. He placed her back on the ground where they embraced, and the crowd cheered. Another family reunited.

Aobh swallowed the lump in my throat. The tears stinging her eyes were forced back, and she clenched my fists, stalking off down the road towards the beach. The light was beginning to fail, the sun having set, and there were deep dark clouds on the horizon. The waves were crashing monstrously, pushing white foam up onto the dull sand. She would not cry in front of the happy people. She would not show her despair. He would want her to be brave, so that's what she would do.

The sand was soft under her feet, and she sunk in, labouring across the ground until she finally gave up. She stood for a few moments, hair ruffled by the salt sea air. A stray tear ran down her cheek and she rubbed it away angrily. And then it exploded out of her.

"It's not FAIR!" She shouted at no one in particular. "You can't just leave me alone!"

The sand exploded out in a shower of grit as she kicked at it, grimacing as the wind blew it back into her face and eyes. _Get a grip, you sound like a child_.And yet she couldn't stop, she picked up a shell and lobbed it at the water, and then another, and another, until she lost count in her rage and her arms felt like lead. Aobh clenched her first around the shell in her hand, felt the edges pressing painful into her palm, watched as her hand shook, and then dropped it into the soft sand at her feet, defeated.

And then a hand gripped her shoulder. It was Rory, or Amy, or a considerate villager. There was no point turning round. But she couldn't help herself.

The Doctor was soaked through, hair plastered to his head, a slim gash across his cheek. He looked pale, but was smiling faintly, a strip of seaweed hung off of his shoulder, shirt sticking to him in an uncomfortable way. One of his braces was broken, the other had white stains from the sea salt. His eyes were full of concern, but he didn't speak. And then she hit him.

It was quite a punch, and it left his arm without any feeling. He flinched back, with a strangled "OI!", rubbing it quickly, brow furrowed, lips pouting in protest.

Aobh's hand was aching from the punch, and the cold, and her breast was heaving as she gulped in air, trying to maintain her composure. And then she launched herself at him, arms wrapping around his wet shoulders, tears now leaking from her eyes as she buried her face in his shoulder. He didn't speak, just rested his cheek against the top of her head, water dripping off the end of his nose into her hair. Her grip was painfully tight, clawing into the back of his shirt collar as if she was once again, holding on to his hand at the cliff face. But he didn't protest, didn't move. He just stood there, soaked and weary, until Aobh finally broke the silence.

"You smell like wet dog," She chuckled into his shoulder, finally letting go and taking a step back.

And then she punched him again.

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><p><strong>I know, I know, another sentimental one, I'm a big softy.<strong>

**Review?**


	14. Chapter 14

**Hey guys! Here's another one, 11th Doctor again, enjoy! **

**Aobh belongs to me (Pronounced Eve)**

**Doctor Who belongs to the BBC**

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><p><span>Chapter 14. Cabin in the Woods<span>

The floorboards were creaking under our feet. I could hear the trees rustling outside, but apart from that, it was quiet. Too quiet. But that was mainly because I wasn't speaking to him.

There he was, a haughty look on his face, sonic screwdriver lighting the room up in a sickly green glow. He was avoiding eye contact. So was I. Why was he so annoying? Maybe it was a brother thing. Who knows?

I suppose I better explain the situation a bit more. It wasn't complicated, he was just being a patronizing git, as per usual. We'd been walking through the woods for quite some, and the sun had nearly set between the trees. It was getting dark, and the air had quite a chill to it. I could see my breath misting in front of me, and my nose felt cold. The ground was rough underfoot, the trees thick, moss covering their roots. The forest itself was quiet. There were no animal noises, no birds singing the evening chorus, no mice scuttling through the bushes. Just silence. I suppose it was fairly creepy, but I seen worse, been through worse. It wasn't a big deal until he made it one.

"Oooh isn't this creepy!" He kept exclaiming, looking over his shoulder at me. The first few times, I had raised an eyebrow. After that I tried to ignore him.

Something moved in the bushes to my left. I stopped, looking over, but I couldn't see anything in the gloom. "What was that?"

The Doctor turned back, listening for a second and then kept going. "You're getting jumpy! Don't worry, we're perfectly safe!"

"I'm not worried," I scoffed, zipping my hoody up further. "Just alert,"

"Aobh, it's okay, you can tell me you know," He replied over his shoulder.

"Tell you what?" I asked, nonplussed.

"Well, you know!" He paused again, waiting for me to catch up. "If you're scared,"

I laughed at first. I thought he was joking about, but his face was fairly serious. "You...you're joking right? I'm not scared.

"Yes yes, I know, you're trying to be brave, but it's okay to admit it!" He looked fairly uncomfortable now, probably because I was glaring at him.

"I. Am. Not. Scared," I replied simply, and then stalked off through the trees. We didn't speak again until we found the cabin.

It was ramshackle and abandoned. There were cobwebs everywhere, dust covered everything, apart from a thick drag mark across the rotting wooden floor. There was an odd musty smell, mixed with something metallic that I couldn't quite place. An old rocking chair was groaning away on the front porch. I felt like I needed to hold my breath, and I didn't know why. Our footsteps seemed absurdly loud in the silence. And yet, there didn't seem to be anything of interest to see.

So there we there, me giving him the cold shoulder, when it happened. That was when the floor gave way.

We landed in the basement in a painful heap of limbs and shattered, rotting wood, groaning. I sat up, rubbing at a my head as I got my bearings. And then I was choking on a strangled cry as I tried to back up, knocking into the Doctor behind me. The basement was...like nothing I'd seen outside of a horror movie.

There was a chair in the centre of the room. Wooden, with great thick leather straps on the arm rests. It was stained like the rest of the room. It was stained with blood. It was all over the walls, across the thick see through sheets of plastic that hung from the ceiling, across the metal...implements that lay scattered on the desk and floor, covered in thick rust. The smell was disgusting, the metallic tang of blood, and I could feel the bile rising in my throat.

We scrambled to our feet, instinctively cowering together, backing up away from the chair, looking for an escape route. When the Doctor spoke, his voice shook slightly.

"Aobh...when I said we were perfectly safe...I may have been wrong," He admitted, eyes wide.

I reached my shaking hand out and grasp onto his.

"When I said I wasn't scared, I may have been wrong. So I guess we're even,"

He gave a faint smile, which I returned with my own shaky one. And then we both gulped. This was going to be an interesting one.

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><p><strong>Random idea while watching a game show about creepy stuff :P<strong>

Review?


	15. Chapter 15

**Here's a request from my single reviewer, Destiel101, who wanted to see some interaction with other companions. So here's 10th Doctor, Aobh and Jack**

**Aobh belongs to me (Pronounced Eve)**

**Doctor Who belongs to the BBC**

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><p><span>Chapter 15. Pit-stop<span>

It was raining in Cardiff bay, a soft drizzle that sprayed the air. It was late evening, and the streetlights were on, glowing a bright orange in the half light. There were a few people out and about, heads down against the rain, collars pulled up around their necks, staying warm. None of the evening commuters noticed the blue box that stood in the centre of the plaza. An old Police Box, made of wood, which certainly hadn't been there a few hours before. But still, nobody noticed it. Well, none of Cardiff's average occupants that was.

The man had watched as the blue door of the box opened, and a mousy haired, young woman stepped out. She was fairly short in stature, wearing a swing coat and silk scarf over a knee length skirt. Her hair was already going fuzzy in the drizzle, and she kept having to brush it out of her face. A second head poked out of the door, much taller, a man with spiky brown hair, and they exchanged a few words, before he ducked back inside, shutting the door, and the girl headed off across the slabs towards the row of bistros and take-aways.

The girl entered a bar, unaware of the man who had followed her there, pushing through the heavy doorway into the warm room. It was a classy establishment, and there were quite a few people starting their evenings out, cocktail dress and smart suits were common. Cocktails were already flowing, and there were a few empty bottles of wine dotted around. She looked around curiously, before heading to the bar, hopping up on a stool. Her legs were short enough to dangle, and she swung her feet as she waited on the barman taking notice. After a few moments, he slid over, giving her a small smile.

"Tea please," She asked. "Milk, two sugars,"

"Sorry love, we don't do tea," The barman replied with a chuckle, as if it was obvious. Well, at least it was to the other customers. The girl's face dropped.

"Oh...uh well..."

"Something sweet for the lady. And I'll have a scotch," Came a voice, an american accent. The man had made his move, slipping onto the stool beside her and leaning on the bar. His smile was flashy and disarming, and he took great enjoyment in watching the young woman light up in a brilliant blush.

"Y-you really don't have to-" She began after a second, but he silenced her with a shake of his head.

"Of course I do. It's not often I meet such a pretty girl from out of town,"

The barman placed two glasses down, one was tall and filled with a bright pink liquid, a little green umbrella sticking out of the top. The girl took a great gulp of it in her flustered state, and then nearly choked. Her eyes screwing shut in an attempt to stop them watering. After she'd collected herself, she sat the glass back down on the bar.

"It's very strong,"She said in a rasping voice, but she was smiling again, and the man grinned in return.

"Not much of a drinker then?"

She shook her head. "You could say that. How did you know I was from out of town?"

He took a sip of his scotch, tinkling the ice against the glass, before replying. "You came to one of the most up market bars in Cardiff and asked for tea,"

"Ah,"

He gave a chuckle, before hitting her with another appraising look. She blushed again, but held his gaze. Braver than he'd first thought then. Mind you, the Doctor did only take the best with him.

"Name's Jack Harkness,"

"Aobh," No surname was given. Interesting.

"Well it sure is nice to meet you Aobh," he drawled. Another successful blush. Oh how entertaining!

"No!" Came a firm voice from the doorway. "Don't you even think about it Jack Harkness, not whilst I draw breath!"

The man from the blue box was striding purposely towards them, face like thunder. He wore a long brown coat that was stippled with rain drops, and his hair was fairly wild, although not quite as wild as the look in his eyes at that point in time,"

"Doctor! Long time no see!" Jack greeted, getting out of his seat. He opened his arms as if he was expecting a hug, but none came. The man stood glaring at him.

"What? I was being polite! Thought I'd get introduced to your new companion!"

"Wait you know each other?" The girl had risen also, drink forgotten, and was looking between them, confused. They both ignored her.

"No, you thought you'd get cosy!" The Doctor corrected him.

"It's called being friendly," Jack sat back down again, picking his scotch up with on hand.

"You knew I was with the Doctor and yet you never said anything?" The girl was asking, her blush now disappeared. In fact, her frown was beginning to resemble that of the taller man. And yet she was still ignored.

"Yeah, well, you can be a little less friendly, thank you very much!" The Doctor replied, eyebrows raised. Jack opened his mouth to argue back, before they were both rudely interrupted.

"ENOUGH!" Aobh thundered. Her eyes were shut, and her jaw was clenched, hands balled into fists. Both men looked on in shock as she physically stamped her foot. "Is anyone actually going to explain what in Rassilon's name is going on?"

"Quite a little spitfire you've got on your hands Doctor," Jack chuckled. He was met by two glaring faces. He gave an exasperated sigh. "What?"

"Aobh meet Captain Jack Harkness, an old and highly inappropriate friend. Jack, meet Aobh, my younger sister," The Doctor said quickly, as if trying to get it over with.

Jack's mouth fell open slightly. "Sister? You said your people were all dead!" A look of realisation dawned on his face. "Wait, was there another fob watch? Like the Master's"

The Doctor nodded a reply, before finally to lean against the bar. He noticed the glass of pink liquid, picking it up and giving it a quick sniff. Aobh resolutely ignored the raised eyebrow that followed in her direction.

"So there could be more survivors. More Time Lords locked up in watches, scattered across the universe?" Jack was asking.

"Well...in theory. It's difficult to say, I think the TARDIS played a big part in finding this particular watch,"

Jack's phone started vibrating in his pocket, and he pulled it out, answering it swiftly. His whole demeanor changed, suddenly serious, commanding. It was quite impressive, if not a little intimidating. He quickly exchanged a few words with the person on the other end before hanging up, finishing his scotch in one mouthful and standing up. His great overcoat swung down at his ankles.

"We've got some very interesting readings from a crash site a few miles out of the city, you in for this one Doc?"

"Well...I dunno, you Torchwood lot and your guns-"

"Oh come on Doctor! You said it yourself, the TARDIS will take all night to refuel! And besides, we just met Jack, it would be a shame to let him run off now," Aobh implored, giving the Doctor her most endearing look. He huffed about for a few seconds but then gave in.

"Well alright, but if things get too carried away, we're leaving, I know what you Torchwood folk are like!"

They followed Jack to leave the bar, heading back into the cold night air. The rain hadn't stopped, but there was a great, black SUV sitting outside waiting for them, which Jack jumped into the front seat of. The Doctor opened the back door, but stopped Aobh before she could climb in.

"By the way, if he dies, don't worry, he'll be alive in a few seconds,"

"Excuse me?"

"He does that," The Doctor explained.

Aobh opened and closed her mouth for a few seconds, speechless, before sliding in the back beside a well dressed gentleman. The Doctor followed, closing the door behind them, and once he was seated, Aobh finally regained the power of speech.

"Your friends are weird Doctor,"

"Hey!" Came the indignant cry from the front seat, and then they were off, speeding into the dark, rainy night.

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><p><strong>Ahh I miss Jack :P<strong>

**And the well dressed gentleman is none other that our lovely Mr Ianto Jones. Gwen will be driving, I'm setting this in between the season 2 finale of Torchwood and Children of Earth. **

**Review?**


	16. Chapter 16

**HAPPY 50TH DOCTOR WHO!**

**Thanks for being a big part of my life for the past 8 years, pretty much got me through highschool.**

**Wasn't the 50th just amazing? I'm still in awe of it, ahhhh so good! So I decided to do a War!Doctor chapter, because John Hurt was fantastic. This is the first chapter I have ever done for this collection with no Aobh at all, only mentioned! Wahoo!**

**Doctor Who belongs to the BBC**

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><p><span>Chapter 16. The Tole of War<span>

The War Doctor followed the writing on the screen for the hundredth time, but didn't read it. He knew it off by heart. Part of him still hoped that it was a trick, a bad dream perhaps, but no, he hadn't had any dreams for years, hadn't slept. For what good was sleep these days? He didn't need it, and he certainly didn't enjoy it. No, the writing on the screen was real. And he could not deny it any longer.

The Gallifreyan text shifted, reading through the list of circles and symbols for the umpteenth time. And there it was, flashing up again. With a strangled, frustrated cry, he pushing the console screen away, launching into action, pulling levers and pushing buttons around the battered console. But still, out of the corner of his eye, he could read it on the screen. And with a deflated, weak sigh, he stopped his ferocious flight, sinking, leaning against the console, defeated, his battered leather jacket hanging off of him like a second, old skin. As if taunting him, the screen flashed again.

_Reconnaissance Ship 245 - MIA  
><em>Reconnaissance Ship 423 - MIA<br>_______Reconnaissance Ship 785 - Destroyed  
>Medical Vessel 24 - Destroyed<br>_______War Ship 8243 - Destroyed  
><em>___War Ship 2132 - Destroyed__

His fingers hovered over the keys, shaking slightly before he punched down, hitting them quickly, as if it would delay the pain. A confirmation message flashed up. He hit yes, and the final list was displayed. The list of the dead. The crew of Reconnaissance Ship 785. It was a short one, it didn't take many hands to man such a TARDIS, a few members of flight crew, science officers, the commanding officers of course, and then there, at the bottom, the reconnaissance team. And her name was among them.

_Lungbarrow, Aobhandorianvlapakar. _

"So that's that then," The War Doctor muttered quietly to himself, before reaching forward and pushing the console screen away, but with much less force this time.

He did not shout. He did not cry or rage. The war had been raging for hundreds of years now, or possibly longer, he'd lost track. And he just didn't seem to have it in him now, to feel anything other than...numb. He was tired. Tired and lonely. War forces good men to do bad things, and he'd done his fair share. He had once been a great man, a Doctor. Sworn to help, never to cause pain. To show mercy, love understanding. But the Time War held no place for a man like that. What he would give to go back, back to the way things were, when he lived by his name, made a difference. When the young Time Lords and Ladies of Gallifrey weren't thrown into an unending, unwinnable storm of carnage and death.

He pinched the bridge of his nose, giving a tired sigh. "I'm sorry my dear. I've failed once again,"

Exhausted, and showing his age, he began to spur the TARDIS into life once more, the great column rising and falling in its ever wheezing cycle. Onwards. Where else was there to go?

The call came filled with static, but he could still hear the urgency, the screams of the dying and the wounded. He froze, listening intently.

"Arcadia is under attack! I repeat, Arcadia is under attack! Urgent assistance required!" Came the voice of a young soldier, his voice choked with panic. "Please! We are falling, I repeat, urgent assistance required! They are here-"

The scream of a Dalek's laser cut him off, but the sounds continued, sounds of explosions, crying children. Sounds of death. The War Doctor's face was set, resolutely grim.

"No More,"

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><p><strong>Short, I know, but it just seemed right. <strong>

**Review?**


	17. Chapter 17

**Rory time finally! Wahoo!**

**Also, I've updated "Into the Vortex" (also finally), go check it out!**

**Shout-out to my dear reviewer Destiel101! Thanks for sticking around! And a shout-out to you silent readers, I hope you're enjoying these wee fics :)**

**Doctor Who belongs to the BBC**

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><p><span>Chapter 17. Dislocation.<span>

They were running. Their footsteps were heavy, crunching the foliage under their feet. Twigs were snapping, branches whipping at their faces, scratching their skin. Both of them were breathing heavily, although one slightly worse than the other. Panic hung in the air. The man was slightly ahead, his longer legs giving him an advantage as he bounded over fallen trees and bushes. The girl was not far behind however, and kept looking over her shoulder, jaw set grimly.

What they were running from, they weren't even sure. A mere moment ago, they'd been walking calmly through the woods, chatting lightly and debating whether or not they were the ones who were lost, not the wife and brother they were searching for. And then it had descended on them, the complete feeling of panic, and fear. There was something in those woods, and it was coming to get them. It was run or die, they were both sure of it. They just didn't know why.

The forest floor dropped dramatically, sloping down at a violent angle. They hit the slope at high speed, Rory giving a cry of alarm at the sudden change. Their feet were moving too fast, and they began to stumble, their arms out as they attempted to keep their balance. Luck finally running out, Aobh's foot struck a tree root, sending her tumbling. She hit the forest floor with a jarring thud, arms out in a half-hearted attempt to break her fall, and then she was rolling, head over heals, through the bushes and the leaves, twigs sticking in her hair and scratching at her skin. Rory stayed on his feet for only a few minutes longer before following Aobh's rolling decent. And with a crash, and a spray of leaves, they tumbled into the clearing at the bottom of the hill, and were still.

Rory was groaning. Everything ached, and he had a stinging cut on one leg. That was the last time he was wearing shorts when they went in the TARDIS. He lay still for a few moments, and evaluated his well-being. Nothing felt...broken. No sharp pains, no numbness. Just aching. Slowly, ever so slowly, he sat up, feeling slightly dazed, and looked around.

Aobh was lying a short distance, face first on the ground. One arm was pinned beneath her and she wasn't moving. Her boots were muddy and scuffed, and there were more holes in her tights than there was fabric. It looked like there was half a tree in her hair, there were leaves and twigs and clumps of dirt matted in. Just as he began to worry however, she moved. The Time-Lady rolled onto her back with a long, slow groan, her movement sluggish.

"Owwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwww-" She moaned, sucking in a breath through her teeth, and then gave a sniff.

"Uh...Aobh? You alright over there?" Rory asked hesitantly, pushing himself off of the ground and brushing as much dirt of himself as possible.

"Hi Rory. You alright, no broken bones?" She replied, not moving from her position on the ground.

"I'm fine, just bruised," He made his way over, offering a hand, which she took, and together, they got her off the ground. It was then Rory noticed that she hadn't moved her left arm at all. "Your arm-"

"Is dislocated. Yes. Bit problematic isn't it. Good job we've got a nurse with us eh? Anyway, how's my hair? Will it live?" She started fussing about with the blonde tangle on the top of her head with her good arm, a look of anguish crossing her face when she felt the twigs protruding from it.

"Your-your hair's fine, but we should get your arm back into place. It's going to be painful though, you'll need to bite down on something," Rory was in full nurse mode now, looking around for an appropriately size object. He finally settled on his belt, which he quickly removed, and folded over. It was made of fabric, not too thick or stiff, and was he only around. Aobh inspected it with a raised eyebrow when he handed it over.

"You're sure about this?"

"Do you want to bite your tongue off?" He asked impatiently.

Aobh opened her mouth as if to argue back, and then shut it with a snap. "Point taken,"

"Right," Rory placed one hand on her shoulder, the other held tightly on to the top of her arm. "I'm going to count to three, and then we go, okay?"

Aobh nodded a response.

"One,"

"Actually, maybe we could wait, I'm sure I only need one arm," She said, removing the belt from her mouth.

"Two,"

She placed it back in, looking unsure. And then she removed it again, grabbing Rory's wrist to slacken his grip.

"Yes on second thoughts, one arm is fine, lets go, remember we were running? Lets run again, a brisk jog, that's what we need!"

Rory's face said it all. Grumbling under her breath, she let go of his arm, placed the belt back in her mouth and closed her eyes. Rory did it on three. With a loud thud, her arm popped back into its socket, and she let out a strangled cry. Rory was fairly sure he heard a vast range of swear words uttered, but he couldn't be sure through the belt, which she was hurriedly trying to spit out.

"OH SWEET LORD!" She shouted, pulling a twig from her hair and hurling it across the clearing. She was breathing heavily, and her cheeks were wet, but she was dealing with it better than some grown men Rory had seen. Mind you, she was a 700 and something year old alien, so it was hard to compare. When it looked like she was finally calming down (Rory had stood back and let her rage for a few more minutes) he approached, picking up the belt.

"Here, you'll need to keep it in a sling, this is all we've got," He pulled the belt around her arm, fastening it behind her neck.

She clapped her good arm on his shoulder. "Thank you Doctor Pond!"

"It's Williams! And I'm not a Doctor I'm a nurse!" He sighed, but she was grinning cockily, and he knew she'd been messing with him. An exasperated smile crossed his lips. "No problem bird's nest,"

"Birds Nest?" Her face fell, and her hand went back to her head. "My hair!"

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><p><strong>I loved Rory. He's a pretty swell guy!<strong>


	18. Chapter 18

**I'm so tired and stressed, and I have coursework up to my ears, but this is stuck in my head. And Doctor Who de-stresses me, so what the hell, time to write. It's an angsty one, 11 and 2nd Aobh :)**

**Doctor Who belongs to the BBC**

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><p><span>Chapter 18. 3 Weeks.<span>

I stood on the brow of the hill, staring at the spot on the horizon that the TARDIS had vanished at, and felt numb. This wasn't happening. Any moment now, I would wake up from some weird dream, or the Doctor would jump out from behind a tree and announce the punchline of some poor, and quite frankly cruel, joke. But no. I didn't wake up, and he didn't appear. He'd left me behind.

The last hour had gone past in a flash. It had started with the Doctor regenerating in an explosive blast. And then the TARDIS had burnt, and we'd haphazardly flown/crashed to my destination, the hillside, where he started talking at full speed.

"Right, Aobh, emergency exit please! Spit spot! Right out the doors, landing is going to be difficult, but I'll take her as close to the ground as possible-"

"What?! No way, I don't know if you've noticed, but the TARDIS is crashing! And you've just regenerated, you're off your head if you think I'm leaving now!" I'd shouted back over the roar of the flames.

"Exactly," He hollered back. "And that's why you're getting off at this stop, this place is going to hell!"

Before I could protest further, he had me by the arm, and was dragging me through the smoke towards the door way, which was flung open. The ground below was grassy, but moving fast, and as I tumbled towards it, I screwed up my eyes, and curled my limbs into my body. By the time I stopped rolling over the uneven ground, the TARDIS was a small, spinning, speck in the distance, upside down, spewing smoke from the doors, and wait, was that a figure clinging to the bottom?

Twelve hours I waited on the brow of that hill. Twelve hours. There was a big rock at the tip, covered in moss, and it was there I sat, the cold slowly seeping into my bones. It was 21st century England, that much I was sure off, late December by the chill in the air. There was frost on the grass, and my breath was misting in front of my face. I didn't have my coat with me, and it was not weather for a skirt and a thin jumper. I. Was. Freezing. Twelve hours. Why didn't I give up sooner you ask? Well for one thing, where would I go? And part of me was convinced he would be back. He was still the Doctor wasn't he? At least I was trying to persuade myself that. It had been an extremely traumatic regeneration. What if he'd gone crazy? Or what if he simply did not want me around anymore?

_I'll wait until sun-rise_.

That's what I told myself. But sunrise came and went, and still I sat, head in my hands, eyes shut, waiting, ears straining. Nothing. I wept. I'm not going to lie, I cried for a good hour, who wouldn't? After everything that had happened with the Master, with Rassilon, the four knock, Wilf, I'd had enough. I just wanted things to be back to normal. But they weren't. I was stuck in the middle of no-where, and the Doctor wasn't coming back. It was time to pull myself together. After twelve hours, I left the hill top.

There was farm in the distance. It didn't take long to walk there, over the crunching, frozen ground. The mud in the surrounding fields was punctuated by solid puddles. The turn-styles were frozen shut, and I had to clamber over the fences, hands cold and numb. As I reached the farm yard, I heard a dog barking, a sheepdog, pelting towards me across the cold ground. As he neared, I stopped, crouching down, and holding a hand out, letting him approach. The growl died in his throat as he sniffed my hand, and then gave it a lick.

"Hello boy," I said quietly, scratching him under the chin. His tailed wagged madly.

"He's harmless," Came a kindly voice ahead of us. "Not much of a guard dog, too busy making friends,"

A portly woman approached, followed by a small boy, toy airplane in hand. His face was mucky, covered in chocolate by the look of it, and he wore massive wellies, too big for his feet. He kept tripping over them, but didn't seem to notice, too absorbed in his game. The dog sat at her feet, tongue lolling out of the side of his mouth.

"Sorry to intrude," I started politely. "But I'm a little lost,"

"Well you seem harmless. And we don't turn away a young woman in need. Come inside, you look frozen,"

I followed her into the farmhouse, a cosy place, with an open fire in the family room, and bare stone walls. Two more children sat in here, an older boy, and a girl not much younger, both in their teens. They were fighting over the TV remote when I came in, but stopped, probably due to the look their mother gave them. I took the chair closest to the fire, and warmed my freezing fingers.

"How long have you been out in that cold?" The woman asked.

"About 12 hours I think," I sniffed, nose now running.

"12 hours? Jesus girl, you could have died in those temperatures!" She exclaimed. The dog padded in, sitting down and leaning against my leg. I stroked his fur absent-mindedly. "You said you were lost?"

"Uh yes," I paused, wondering how to explain. "I was travelling. With my brother. We got separated, and I think he kept going. I'm not sure if he's coming back,"

"I'd leave Molly behind," laughed the oldest boy on the sofa, before the girl punched him.

"Paul you take that back! Shame on you for saying such a thing," His mother scolded. Her voice softened again. "He'll be back pet, mark my words. Family sticks together, no matter what, or at least that's how I was raised. You're welcome to stay here until he arrives, I could always use a hand around the place,"

"You live here by yourself?" I asked, surprised. It was a big plot of land.

"Since their father passed a few years back. My two eldest sons take care of the crops, they're good lands,"

"I'm sorry to here that,"

"Oh don't you worry love. I reckon you've had some grief in your past too," She said, her voice solemn. "I can see it in your face,"

I didn't reply. The fire had my attention, staring into its hot, flickering depths. What now? Stay on the farm? How long could I stay in one place? Time just seemed to move so...slowly. One thing I had resigned myself to however. The Doctor wasn't coming back.

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><p>My routine was simple. Up before the dawn, feed the chickens and then take Sam out for a walk. He was an old dog I'd discovered, but still sprightly, and he loved the fresh air. We'd walk up to the brow of the hill, and I'd sit on my rock for a few hours and watch the sun come up. It was a simple life, and to tell you the truth, I was bored out of my mind. But what else could I do?<p>

At the end of my second week on the farm, it snowed, heavily. The ground was completely covered, and for the first time since arriving, Sam didn't want to walk with me. He stopped at the end of the yard, and stared.

"Come Sam!" I shouted. He looked at me, and then stalked off back into the house. I gave a heavy sigh. "Just me then today,"

The walk up the hill was difficult. The snow was thick, and kept falling into my borrowed wellies, soaking into my tights. It was cold, but I'd borrowed one of the eldest son's jackets, and an old woolen hat and scarf that smelt a bit dusty. When I reached the top of the hill, I couldn't find my stone. With nothing to sit on, I didn't last the whole hour. It was too cold. So I started to head back through the tracks I'd made in the snow, stopping as an idea hit me. Maybe I should leave a sign? Just in case?

To any human, it looked like some jumbled circles. To someone fluent in gallifreyan, it read:

_I'm still here. Down at the farm. I miss you. _

I read it over, and then quickly rubbed the last sentence, cursing my sentimentality. That would do. In fact I was probably being stupid anyway. In a fowl mood I made my way back to the farm. Little did I know that more snow was on the way, and my the next day my message would be gone. And that's how the note in the snow was added to my routine.

Another week went past. Nothing. The longer I stayed, the more I felt the need to leave. I had never stayed in the same place this long since, well since living on Gallifrey, and even then, I had been bored out of my skull. I needed adventure, I needed excitement, I needed something more worth while than feeding chickens! And so, on that final morning, I'd left a note for the family, thanking them for their hospitality. Taken the scabbiest coat from the hook, one that wouldn't be missed, fed the chickens, and then left. I headed for the hill first, a final farewell I suppose. And after fighting my way through the snow, I found my message from the day before covered by another layer once again. I looked back down at the farm, silently thanking them again, and then turned the other way, looking out to the horizon, to the last place I saw the TARDIS, my home.

"Well this is it. I dunno if I'll ever see you again. One day maybe. But I hope you're safe. And I hope your happy. I want to thank you for finding me. But I don't know if I'll ever be able to thank you for letting me go,"

The air was quiet, as if the hill itself was listening to me. I waited for a few moments, listening hard, but once again nothing. It was time to go. I angrily wiped the tears from my cheeks, and started off down the hill, pushing my hands deep into my pockets. Half way down the hill I slipped, landing right on my face, snow going inside my coat, soaking my hair. I sat up, spitting the cold out, tears threatening again. And that's when I heard it. The sound of the universe, a deep, rasping groan. I started sobbing properly as the blue box materialised in front of me.

The door swung open quickly, and a young man with a boyish smile lent out, clad in tweed with- wait was that a bow tie? He looked around, and was already mid sentence before he spotted me.

"-sorry about the wait, thing got rather hectic back there. Anyway, wow snow! Real snow look at that! What are you doing down there, are you crying? What's wrong?!"

I picked myself off the ground, angrily brushing the snow off as much as possible, and glared through my tears, arms crossed. He looked flabbergasted, mouth hanging open, still half hanging out of the TARDIS.

"What happened while I was gone?"

"Oh nothing really. I fed some chickens, walked a dog, labored over the difficult decision of what I was going to do next,"

He raised his eyebrows in question, eyes wide. "Aobh...how long have I been gone?"

"3 weeks,"

"3 weeks?!" He groaned. "Well could have been worse, could have been 10 years, again, give or take,"

"I thought you'd left me behind!" I choked out voice breaking again. "I thought you didn't want me around anymore!"

His face melted, and I could see deep, deep sorrow in his brilliant, and now green, eyes. His shoulders sagged, deflated, and he stepped out of the TARDIS, crunching over the snow towards me.

"Oh Aobhee, I'm sorry, I truly am. But I wouldn't abandon you, not now not ever. We've got to stick together, you and me. Family sticks together,"

He wrapped his long, gangly arms around me, around the big, borrowed coat. My chin just about reached his shoulder now that he was shorter, although not by much, so I sat it there, gripping onto the back of his jacket as if I would never let go.

"A friend told me that. A nice woman, who owned the farm. She said you'd come back, and I wanted to believe her, I really did,"

"And she was right wasn't she," He said quietly, letting go and ruffling my snow covered hair. "Did she give you that jacket too? It's hideous!"

"Coming from the man wearing a bow tie," I sniffed, wiping my cheeks for what felt like the hundredth time since first arriving on that hill.

"Oi!" The Doctor scolded, pointing his finger threateningly. "Bow ties are cool! Now, come and see the TARDIS, I think you might like it,"

And he trounced off, back through the doors. I gave a smile, my first in three weeks in fact, and followed him inside. Everything was okay. At least for now anyway.

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><p><strong>Uh sorry if this is boring, or depressing, or too sentimental (again). I just enjoy writing angstfluff when I'm stressed or feeling crap. Hugs from a Doctor are good for the health. **

**Review? Pretty Please? ;_;**


	19. Chapter 19

**I haven't written anything in a while, thought I'd give 9 a go :)**

**Doctor Who belongs to the BBC**

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><p><span>Chapter 19. Familiar.<span>

It was an ordinary mid-autumn morning in London. It had rained earlier in the day, and the ground was still wet, golden and brown leaves littering the roadside, collecting in the drains. A cool breeze rustled the leaves still left on the trees. And the house. The sat in silence.

It was an odd place, quite old by the looks of it. A Victorian townhouse, with views over a great, green park. And yet despite its promising location, the house lay wooden window frames were rotting, and a few of the panes were smashed and cracked. The gutters were full of leaves, and an abandoned birds nest sat on top of the chimney stack. The old red door was peeling and faded, sitting at the end of a weather worn, overgrown path. Weeds grew between the slabs, and the small garden around it was overgrown, greats swaths of bushes climbing up past the wrought-iron fence.

I wasn't supposed to be there. I hadn't been asked to go, I hadn't intended to, and yet, there I was, stopping outside, looking quizzically at it from under a mane of brown hair. My journey further into the centre of the city, where I was supposed to be meeting with the Doctor, had been postponed. There was something far more important about this house, far more important that whatever it was I was heading to do. At least I thought it was. I couldn't even remember.

After staring at the house, unmoving, for a good ten minutes, I realised that I wasn't the only one watching the house. On the opposite side of the road, a man sat on an old wooden bench, leaning back with his arms crossed, watching. He didn't have a newspaper, or a phone, or even lunch. He just sat there. And blimey, those were big ears.

I looked across at him, squinting against the cold wind, and waited to see if he moved. He didn't. He just sat there, under a great black leather jacket, and watched. I decided it was time to investigate further. I crossed the street, and sat at the other end of the bench. He didn't acknowledge me.

Another ten minutes passed. I shuffled awkwardly on the cold bench, watching him out of the corner of my eye. He was still staring at the house. I gave a deep sniff, and then opened my mouth to speak.

"Are you going to say something, or are you just going to stare at me all day?" The man beat me to it, his accent a thick, northern one.

My mouth opened and closed for a few minutes, a bit like a goldfish, and then I spluttered a reply. "You're watching the house,"

"I am,"

"You can tell something's going on,"

"I can,"

Another silence as I waited on him replying, giving more information, but he said nothing, eyes still not leaving the house. Seeing as he knew what I was up to, I shuffled around a bit, looking at him properly. He had rather large ears, and a rather large nose. His hair was cropped close to his head. And he was still watching the house.

"Do I know you?" I asked, squinting. He seemed awfully familiar.

"I dunno, do you?" He asked.

"I don't know, that's why I'm asking," I stated obviously, but he just shook his head.

I looked back across to the house. There it was again, the feeling that something was odd about it. It was like an itch. An itch that I couldn't quite reach, and it was annoying, sitting there, almost teasing, luring me towards it.

"I wouldn't do that if I were you," came the northern voice beside me, and I suddenly snapped back to reality. I was standing up, one foot on the road in front of me, in the process of crossing to the house. I blinked heavily, giving my head a shake, and sitting down.

"I do _not _like that house," I muttered quietly, and I caught the man beside me nodding. There it was again, the itch. It was probably best that I didn't look at it. Instead, I focused my attention on the man again.

"Someone needs to do something about it,"

"I'm working on it," he replied. I gave a small scoff and he turned to look at me frowning. "What?"

"You don't look like you're working on it,"

"Oi! I'm working right now! I know exactly what I'm doing, it's what I do!"

I held up my hands in mock defeat. "Alright, alright! Mr defensive! You're not from around here are you?"

He frowned, his large ears wobbling a bit. "What makes you say that?"

Good question. I squinted at him for a few seconds before replying. "I dunno...I can just tell. Just like there's something wrong with that house,"

"Fantastic detective work there," He replied dryly, but he was smiling, grinning in fact, a great big toothy grin that filled his face and made his eyes light up. And his eyes, well his eyes looked so old, like he'd seen so much. In fact, his eyes reminded me of...

"Oh dear," I uttered, eyes wide. I stood quickly, brushing myself down, fidgeting with the sleeves of my coat. "I - uh, I should go, good luck, have a nice day, uh-"

And I was off, ignoring the raised eyebrow, and the confused muttering of "was it something I said?", nearly running down the pavement. How did I not notice?! It was obvious. Cursing my stupidity under my breath, I reached the corner and slowed to a calmer walk, looking back at the house. There it sat, dark and foreboding. The man was gone.

I reached the center of town, and finally located the Doctor, sitting at the base of a fountain eating a Mars bar. He took a second out of the pocket of his great, brown overcoat, and chucked it at me as I approached a cocky grin on his face. I ignored it, plonking myself down on the cold stone beside him, swinging my feet. Out of the corner of my eye, I could see he was still grinning.

"Right, go on then, say it," I moaned despondently, and he gave a snicker.

"Well it did take you a while!"

"I wasn't exactly expecting it!"

"A shockingly long time in fact!"

"Oh shut up!" I scolded, but I was laughing now, giving him a dig in the ribs with my elbow. "I suppose you just suddenly remembered it then?"

He nodded a response. "And before you ask, the house is all sorted. There was Tiblenium Snare growing inside, its pollen was what was luring people in. Fixed it in no time, easy peasy,"

"Tell you what though," I gave hit a shove. "You had massive ears!"

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><p><strong>9 AND 10, yay!<strong>

**Review? Pretty Please? ;_;**


	20. Chapter 20

**I was planning on making this into a full length story, but then I realised I had no clue where to take it after this chapter. So it looks like it's going here! 11th Doctor + 3rd Aobh :)**

**Aobh is pronounced Eve**

**Doctor Who belongs to the BBC**

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><p><span>Chapter 20 - Explosions<span>

From a distance, you probably could have guessed that the pair were alien. Well, either that or incredibly odd. Or possibly both. Lets go with both. One was tall, dressed like an aging geography teacher but with the face of a young man. As he ran, his limbs seemed to flop, much like his hair, in an ungraceful fashion. The other one was a woman, similar in age but much shorter in stature. A birds nest of blonde hair sprouted from her head, she wore a dungaree dress with thick black tights, and her chunky boots looked too big for her feet, in fact, it was a wonder she could run at all in them. Between them, they were carrying a great, black bag, that was weighed down with its heavy contents. It did not help they're ungainly run at all. The man was at the front, dragging the bag, and the girl, behind him. His partner in oddity kept glancing over her shoulder, eyes wide, and then staring back down at the bag.

Who were they? Good question. They were the people saving your life.

The duo skidded to a halt outside of a great, metal warehouse. The Doctor grabbed the handle of a massive, rusting door, pulling it as hard as he could with one arm. The door started moving, extremely slowly, screeching as it went. He dropped his end of the bag, ignoring the grumbles from the girl behind him, and through his full weight into it. The door started sliding faster, chunks of rusted metal flaking off and landing at their feet. As soon as the door was open wide enough, he grabbed his end of the bag, and the pair slipped through.

The warehouse was empty, and incredibly dusty. The floor was littered with puddles of water, light shining through from the holes in the roof. It was quiet in here, save for the sound of their panicked breathing, and four heart beats thudding. The sound of the churning sea outside echoed through the smashed windows. A storm was coming. They could feel it in the pressure of the air, the sting of the wind.

The Doctor quickly unzipped the black bag, revealing a small, electronic device inside. Aobh reached a shaking hand out to it, touching the metal casing.

"It's hot. We don't have long,"

The Doctor already had his sonic screwdriver out, and was buzzing it, in almost a gentle manner, over the outside of the object, his brow furrowed and his jaw set. He started shaking his head furiously.

"No come on!" He shouted, standing suddenly, pacing on his long, gangling legs. One hand had reached up, rubbing his face in frustration. Aobh looked up at him in question. "It's deadlock sealed!"

"Ah," came the reply from the floor. The Doctor stopped pacing.

"Yes, 'ah', bit of an understatement Aobh, we've got a 35th century explosive device of unknown origin, which is about to go KABOOM, and we can't get into it to deactivate it. Ah indeed!"

He started pacing again, hitting the tip of his sonic off of his forehead as he screwed up his eyes, thinking furiously. Aobh reached forward again, hissing as her fingertips made contact with the now scalding metal casing. They had about, well about five minutes tops she determined. Five minutes until what? Death? Pain? It was pretty exciting, in an odd stomach churning sort of way.

"Well we need to think of something, this thing is ready to blow any minute now," She zipped the bag up again. There was no way they were touching it directly now.

"Right, Aobh, head back to the TARDIS, I'll meet you-," The Doctor began, but he was interrupted by a scoffing noise.

"Nice try Mr Heroic, I don't think so,"

The Doctor grumbled in response. Something that sounded like "That usually works," and stopped his pacing once more, giving the bag a quick scan.

"If I could just work out what it's for! Why was it in that park, when no one was around? Who did they want to find it?"

Aobh started chewing on her bottom lip, brow furrowing as she thought. With a sudden expel of air through her lips, she came to a sudden realisation.

"Us,"

"What about us?"

"They wanted us to find it,"

The Doctor's mouth hung open slightly, an expression of horror etched on his face as the realisation dawned for him. The duo both looked at the bag. It was smoking, smoldering now, an odd burning smell permeating from it. And then in the background, over the sound of their hearts and the sea...a thin, reedy whistling noise. Like steam escaping from a tiny vent.

Aobh dived towards the bag, out of the reach of the Doctor's grasping arm. She pulled on one end with all of her might, feeling the muscles in her arms protesting as the bag lifted from the floor, spinning around her as she turned on the spot. Smoke trailed out behind it as she revolved, once, twice, three times, almost doing an impression of a hammer thrower at a sports event, and then she let go. The back sailed through the air, towards the window, flames now coming from it. As it smashed through, the device had melted through the material completely, reaching the outside air independently.

And then it exploded, there was a blinding flash of light, and the rumbling, shrieking sound of corrugated iron being displaced.

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><p><strong> Kaboom?<strong>


End file.
